James Christian remembers the night a few years ago when he and his wife
took a Scottish travel agent camping on their land in Kenya's Laikipia
Plateau. As they sat under a starry African sky, the hill opposite them
suddenly erupted with gunfire and loud booms. "Red tracer fire opened up, and
there were these massive explosions  all of this was opposite us
enjoying our African-wilderness experience," Christian says.

Kenya's Laikipia region, located north of Nairobi near Mount Kenya, is known
for its wide-open spaces, hills and climate  hot in the day and cool at night. It is home to dozens of landowners  some of whom snapped up
their lots before Kenya won independence from Britain in 1963  as well as
Africa's most fabled animals: lions, leopards and elephants. This, and the fact that there's no malaria, makes Laikipia a popular destination for
tourists looking to get off the beaten track. Yet the emptiness also appeals
to the British army, which has been training in the region for decades.
(See pictures of the crisis in Kenya after the 2008 election.)

Laikipia now finds itself caught up in the politics of faraway warmaking. As Britain increases its troop levels in Afghanistan (numbers there
have doubled to about 10,000 in the past three years), it has ramped up its
training exercises in Kenya, with more than 3,000 soldiers passing through the region
each year. The army says Laikipia is perhaps its best training ground
because the conditions there  high altitude, extreme heat, hilly terrain
 are remarkably similar to those found in Afghanistan.

Locals face a tough question at a time when the global recession and the
collapse of the cattle-ranching market have hit residents hard: How can they
continue their decadelong push to market the area as a wildlife destination
while also accommodating the needs of the British army? Residents are trying
to balance both demands. "The current level of training is high. It's never
been this high," says Anthony King, executive director of the Laikipia
Wildlife Forum, a conservation group. "Clearly, army training and other land
uses [like wildlife tourism] may not always be compatible. There are
definitely people who have invested heavily in tourism who are deeply
concerned about the [region's] image. But if it's managed well, the army
doesn't have to be a threat to wild animals." (See pictures of British soldiers in Afghanistan.)

Known as Operation Grand Prix, the training exercises can be massive,
involving hundreds of troops, helicopters, and live-mortar and
live-rifle fire. The military says this is the closest the soldiers will get
to actual combat before they deploy to Afghanistan. The soldiers train by
themselves and alongside the Kenyan army, sometimes with locals playing the
roles of rioters or restless crowds. To accommodate the increase in troops,
the army has begun renting land from residents  it went from dealing with
three landowners a few years ago to seven now. Neither the military nor the
ranches will disclose how much money has changed hands, but it's believed to be
in the millions of dollars.

The army's presence in Kenya hasn't been without complications, though.
In 2002 the British government paid about $7 million in compensation to 233
people who had been injured or had relatives killed by stray ordnance
in the region. British soldiers were accused of raping some 2,000 local
women over the decades, but in 2006 a military investigation concluded that
there was not enough evidence to bring the claims to court.

"We don't force ourselves on these ranch areas. We're there because
people ask us if we'd like to train there," said Colonel Neil Hutton, head of
the British training program in Kenya. "As it turns out, it's a good deal
for everybody. We don't come knocking on their doors, bullying them. It's
very much a relationship." (Read "How a Biofuel 'Miracle' Ruined Kenyan Farmers.")

But with more soldiers heading to this part of Kenya every year, it remains
to be seen whether the tourism industry and the wildlife will begin to
suffer. When exercises are under way, the gunfire can be heard for miles. In 2006 British troops on patrol got lost and shot and killed a white
rhinoceros that was threatening them. Landowners protested when the
army used helicopters to clear firing ranges of elephants and other animals.

But the army has been working more successfully with residents in recent years to
lessen its impact on the surroundings. At Mpala Ranch, where the army does
some training, officials have agreed to move their exercises to an area that
doesn't butt up against landowners who run tourism ventures. The Mpala
Research Center, an independent scientific-research station in Laikipia, has
begun a study to measure the effects of the training on wildlife. (The
army contends that there have been no serious disturbances to the animals
since it boosted its training program.) And by 2011, the army says, it will
no longer conduct major training exercises during the peak tourist season. (Read "Kenya's Blackboard Jungle.")

"The British Army takes liaison with local populations seriously ... and is
careful to minimize any adverse effects arising from their presence," an
army spokesperson in London told TIME. "Preserving the local environment is
a priority. In addition, we have supported the local economy and
infrastructure by funding new schools and employing local workers."

Indeed, some locals are happy about the army's presence  and its influx of
cash into local communities. "As far as I'm concerned, it's good for the
economy. You've got 1,000 people here at any one time," says Jamie Roberts,
who runs the air-charter company Tropic Air and works occasionally with the
army. (Read "The Talk of Kenya: What Does Obama Have Against Us?")

Christian, too, has started to come around. "Certainly things have gotten a
lot better," he says. "The British army has become a bit more sensitive in
realizing that tourism is kind of touchy when it comes to big explosions."